The twain shall never meet
by ichibanseiken
Summary: Happy Birthday Byakuya...now why is your poor fukutaichou late again?  One-shot.


_**It's January 31**__**st**__**. Happy Birthday, Byakuya! **_

_Disclaimer: Bleach world and characters belong to Tite Kubo._

THE TWAIN SHALL NEVER MEET

Kuchiki Byakuya sat in his 6th division captain's office. His annoyed gray eyes slid to the right; his fukutaichou's desk was, as of yet, unoccupied. Now it was not unusual for Abarai Renji to be late for work, especially not on Mondays. However, it was somewhat unlike him to be late on his captain's birthday.

But wait. He could feel it now. Better late than never, he thought to himself and wondered if his fukutaichou will be very hung-over, or bear marks of having slept in by accident. His famously feral reiatsu was certainly disordered enough to account for either eventuality.

He could feel the cloud of wild, red energy approach the divisional headquarters; tendrils of it battered at the door and he heard violent stomping of feet. The door opened and there he was: one flustered, tattooed tall guy with snow melting in his spiky, red ponytail and on his black uniform. He made a show of shaking the white stuff out of his hakama in the hallway and removed his shoes before bowing and entering.

"Good morning, taichou."

"Good morning, Abarai."

"Sorry I'm late, taichou."

"I'm sure you have an interesting excuse, Abarai."

Grey eyes gazed at the younger man searchingly. His uniform was tidy and he seemed alert enough to have woken up hours ago. His right hand was wrapped. There was no obvious sign of inebriation or hangover, yet he noticed red puffiness around his fukutaichou's eyes. The man had been crying.

"Come here, Abarai." Byakuya took a closer look at his fukutaichou's left hand. "Are you hurt?" As a captain, he was used to dealing with his subordinate's various injuries, but one thing he could not abide, ever, was overt emotional display. Thus, Kuchiki-taichou ignored the red streaks on Abarai Renji's face and directed his attention to the hastily bandaged hand.

"Che, it's nothing, taichou. It hurts like hell but it's just a minor cut. Excuse me, taichou." And Renji turned away and blew his nose into a hankerchief several times. When he turned to face his captain again, his eyes were running with tears.

"Abarai." Kuchiki-taichou's graceful eyebrows rose in a measure of concern.

"I just…" Renji sniffled mightily, struggling for control, "I'm sorry I'm late but there's been a little accident…" and as he said that, his tattooed eyebrows began to dance in alarm and his eyes began to tear even more. Acting on pure instinct, he wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shihakusho. His face drew a sudden shock of pain.

"FUCK! Sorry, taichou." Byakuya was stunned by this unseemly display, and more than a little concerned. Renji ripped a wrapped package out of his kosode, tossed it on the edge of his captain's desk and ran off to the little kitchen in the back of the headquarters.

Byakuya followed. There was Renji, his red face and red hands under cold, running water. Silently, Byakuya retrieved the first aid kit for Renji's cut and a clean towel for his face. He stood and waited, curses tickling his curious ears. It must have been minutes. Finally Renji came up for air and grasped the offered towel gratefully.

When his face was dry again, he looked at his captain with the pitiful expression of a puppy who's just been mercilessly beaten.

"Thank you, taichou. Happy birthday, taichou. Your gift is on your desk."

"Thank you, Abarai." Byakuya looked at him with thinly veiled curiosity. "Would you care to enlighten me as to what happened to you?"

"Only after you open your birthday present, taichou."

The captain turned, his smooth raven hair spilling over white and without a word he processed back to his desk. He nodded at the guest chair and when Renji was properly seated, Byakuya reached for his birthday gift. He gazed at the fine wrappings with appreciation, yet he dreaded the contents. The dimensions of the box resembled another box of chocolates.

Byakuya tore the paper and sure enough – a large gold box made of paper. The mass indicated the gift was the same as in the previous years - before he made it known to his fukutaichou that he really did not like sweets – and he felt mildly annoyed. First the late arrival, then the swearing and silent tears and now, chocolates.

"Won't you open the box, taichou?" Renji's voice felt faint with exhaustion and the lack of resonance indicated that he was still inexplicably congested.

"As you wish." Byakuya lifted the box lid gingerly. There was the embossed image of a woman sitting her steed, her nudity veiled by her long hair. Yet as he struggled to slide the top off, something inside the box shifted. He worked a bit longer and the lid came off and to his great surprise, he gazed at four small bottles, carefully nestled in a padding of fine tissue paper.

Byakuya lifted them out of the box one by one. The writing on the colorful labels was not in a language he understood, yet the bottle caps were labeled with numerals. He lifted an inquiring gaze to his fukutaichou.

"There should have been five. I'm sorry I broke one as I was wrappin' them this morning. It serves me right, trying to make you think you're getting chocolates again." A ghost of his old grin graced Renji's handsome, tear-streaked face.

"So anyway, they are hot pepper sauces. Number 1 is the mildest. It's called Pickapeppa and it's not hot really, just sort of pungent. Number 2 is Tabasco and I think it's hot. Number 3 is Chipotle and is hotter with a nice, smoky flavor. Now Number 4 is very hot, probably even for you. That's the Yucatan Habanero sauce."

Renji paused.

"Now Number 5 was a new thing. They found the hottest pepper ever not long ago. They call it the Ghost Pepper an' I got you a bottle of the Ghost Pepper sauce. Except it slipped outta my hand an' I broke the bottle and cut my hand while cleaning up."

Byakuya's level gaze softened in sympathy. "I have cut my hand before while slicing hot peppers," he allowed. "It is quite painful. But I don't think I ever cried over it."

"That's because the evil sauce didn't spray all over your clothing and you didn't accidentally rub your face while washing up. I thought I washed well enough, with soap n'all." Renji looked flustered. "I just couldn't do anything. I couldn't even see. I'm a lot better now."

"Did you put on clean clothes afterward, Renji?" Byakuya's voice was soft and Renji startled at the use of his first name.

"Nah…I was running late as it was."

"Then I suggest you take a shower immediately. Use the captain's quarters. I'll send someone for a clean uniform. Right now you are a hazard to yourself and anyone you touch."

At lunchtime, Kuchiki Byakuya sent out for a mild dish. He set out all four bottles.

"Abarai. Would you like to join me for a hot-sauce tasting?"

Renji's eyes were no longer puffy after the clever snow compresses his captain thought to make for him, but they were still red and discreetly hidden behind sunglasses when he ventured outside.

"I'll pass, taichou. I prefer chocolate, myself." He tilted his head over his bento in thought.

"It's just like they say, after all."

"Like who says, Abarai?"

"Rangiku says this. 'A guy may be hot or sweet but the twain shall never meet.'"

Byakuya sampled the chipotle hot sauce, humming with approval. "I sure am not sweet."

"You sure ain't, taichou."

Byakuya quickly slid his eyes toward his lieutenant, but Abarai had an innocent, almost stoic expression on his face.


End file.
